This morning Caroline came around the corner wearing neutrals, describing the hairstyle she wanted me to render before we even laid eyes on each other.
I was all, "Caroline, you're not wearing any pink today!"
And she was all, "Yeah, well....Valentine's Day is over, Mom."
So much for that little project. It was fun while it lasted.
...............
Two lovely things happened yesterday. One, we were informed Isabella's violin performance was deemed brilliant enough to qualify for a special upcoming concert.
Her ensemble group also made the cut, so you know what that means. More practising for la pianista. Also, I need to find some black pants. That's what accompanists are supposed to wear, you know. Black from head to toe. Just a face stocking short of a cat burglar.
Unfortunately, I don't happen to have much by way of black in my wardrobe, especially in the pants department. And by the way, it pains me to say pants. I don't know why, but it does.
The other lovely thing: I was interviewed for an article set to appear in a local publication. I was a little nervous about the whole thing, because anytime someone says they want to ask you some questions, there is a certain implication they assume you will know the answers. So I called my husband at work and asked, "Remind me again what it is I like to do? Draw little girls? And paint their dresses blue?"
Then I wrote down everything he said on cue cards.
When the journalist called, she asked if I would mind having the conversation taped. Which thrilled me to no end, since my brother worked as a freelance writer and interviewed famous people and always asked them the same question.
Ah, Conan O'Brien. It's amazing how much we have in common!
Anyway, what caught me off guard about the whole experience was how very enjoyable it is to be asked questions about oneself. I am usually the girl who eschews the spotlight and usually the friend who does more listening than talking...so I did expect to struggle with my inherent taciturn nature.
Turns out I worried in vain.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, she said, "Tell me how you got started on Etsy." I got off to a weak start by accidentally using the wrong cue card, gained momentum with a few knock-knock jokes, forgot the intent of the original question, and ended up giving her my entire life story. By the time I got to the part where no one asked me to prom, I heard a little click.
"I'm sorry, but did you just turn off your tape recorder?" I asked.
All silliness aside, it truly was fun. I did stutter a bit when she asked me to describe my art, partly because it felt presumptuous to discuss my drawings in a serious way, and partly because I don't think I've paused to consider that question before. And it made me realize I should try to summon my thoughts on the matter more readily, to be able to articulate what it is I am trying to accomplish creatively in my life at any given moment. And so should everyone else.
If someone says, "Tell me about your art," you should have a non-stuttering answer to that question.
Whether you think you are an artist or not.